


Time Tells

by arabmorgan



Series: A Little Happiness [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Humor, M/M, Post-Iron Man 3, Post-Thor: The Dark World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 00:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7866943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabmorgan/pseuds/arabmorgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/7510294">Dog Days</a> interludes: tales from the other side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cold Water

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads-up, there's really no point in reading this if you haven't read Dog Days, because there is basically no context unless you already know what's going on (but hey, thanks for checking this out anyway!).
> 
> Anyway, a lot of you wanted to know how the Avengers reacted to a lot of the Tony/Loki situations, so here we are! This interlude takes place between chapters 9 and 10, although I think it's best read after chapter 10. Honestly, I'm not totally satisfied with this, but the more I read it the less I like it, so I'm just gonna put it out there before I change my mind altogether. I mean, I love Nat and all, but I had a lot of difficulty with her voice. Also, the humour tag doesn't apply for this chapter, oops.

An hour of silence passed, and then another.

Evening came and went.

To Natasha, it felt as if time had flowed backwards, and once again Tony was missing while the rest of them balanced on the knife-edge of panic.

Bruce was flipping through a scientific journal seemingly at random, his eyes unfocused, lips pressed together and shoulders rigid with obvious tension.

Steve was pacing, pale and guilty, no doubt wondering if he had sent Tony to his death, but at the same time honour-bound to give their teammate all the time he needed with Loki.

_Loki_.

Once again, the mad god had surprised her by turning up alive in the first place, and if there was one thing Natasha hated, it was surprises.

Loki might be weakened and vulnerable _now_ , but he would regain his magic one way or another, of that she was certain. He was too resourceful, too _cunning_ not to succeed, and before that happened, he had to be neutralised as a threat.

But she couldn’t deny that Tony – and by extension, the Avengers – held the upper hand here. No matter his pride or bravado, Loki’s feelings for the billionaire had been as clear as day, a reluctant but unmistakably strong dependence.

A weakness.

Everything now hinged upon Tony’s ability to leverage on that dependence, before Loki decided to rid himself of this Achilles heel once and for all.

Somehow, she found that she had full confidence in the impulsive inventor. The man really was extraordinarily sharp, for a civilian.

Besides, their appearance had _surprised_ Loki. A cornered wildcat he might be, but he was in no position to scheme for the long term at the moment – it was almost a pity; playing the long game with an opponent like Loki would have been a stimulating challenge.

Her thoughts flowing from one consideration to the next, she sat calmly, muscles still and mind fluid, even as Thor swung Mjolnir back and forth on one finger anxiously like an oversized pendulum.

Her mind turned to Clint briefly, recalling the way he had all but pounced on Steve, snarling about irresponsibility and abandoning teammates to the mercy of megalomaniacs; the way he had glowered at her, looking ready to spit when she pulled him sharply away from the stricken super soldier.

She had no doubt that he was currently working his frustrations out with his bow; he didn’t need anyone intruding on him at the moment.

“Do you…do you guys think we should go and check on – on how things are? It’s been _hours_.” Steve broke the silence, the sound of his nervous swallow audible even in the spacious common area.

Thor looked up at that, his eyes uncharacteristically shadowed. “That may be the best course of action, Captain. My brother may not mean us any harm, but he was visibly distressed at our presence, and he may – Loki can be aggressive when he is…upset.”

Bruce’s eyes flickered skittishly between the two blondes, looking unwilling to add his two cents, and so Natasha took that as her cue to insert herself into the conversation.

“Patience, boys,” she said, and instantly, all attention was on her. “This was never something that was going to be solved by casual conversation over tea. At least, if we want a lasting truce out of this, it _shouldn’t_ be solved by words alone. Just trust that Tony knows what he’s doing.”

The concept of _trust_ was enough to make Steve back off with a resolute nod; Thor didn’t look as if he fully comprehended what Natasha was trying to imply, but he seemed willing enough to place his faith in her instincts.

Bruce, on the other hand, seemed to take a minute longer to process her words. The expression that slowly dawned on the doctor’s earnest face could only be described as burgeoning horror, and a tremor of guilty amusement flashed through her mind.

“What…” he started, before breaking off and trying again. “Natasha, you don’t…I mean, you wouldn’t leave Tony to – do you _know_ what’s happening over there?” The look in Bruce’s eyes was accusing.

She shrugged, having had enough damning looks directed her way to be quite unbothered by one more. “I’m just as in the dark as you are,” she said truthfully.

“But you have a _suspicion_ ,” Bruce insisted, lowering his voice in a conscious attempt to stay calm.

Her eyes narrowed. “We all have suspicions.”

“ _Natasha_.” The sharpness of Bruce’s tone actually made Thor look over. “Did we just _prostitute Tony_?”

Steve whipped around, looking bewildered. “Wait, what?”

Natasha sighed, wondering why her life seemed to consist of nothing more than excitable men who were unable to plan for the future.

“I’m sure Steve has explained that Tony _asked_ to be left alone to speak with Loki in private.” She raised her chin ever so slightly, making sure that her words were cutting. “I certainly didn’t tell him to have sex with Loki in exchange for peace, as you seem to be insinuating.”

“ _What_?” Steve repeated, appalled.

That made Bruce pause, and he seemed to mull over her words for a moment like he was looking for holes to poke in her reasoning, an act which she tended to associate more with Tony than the mild-mannered doctor.

“But you think that’s what he had in mind,” Bruce said at last, sounding a little more hesitant than before.

“Actually, no. This is simply my own inference,” she confessed, allowing a guileless smile to grace her lips. “I don’t think Tony went in with much of a plan at all – it just seemed like a natural progression to me. Didn’t you see it? The way they acted towards each other.” She tilted her head at Steve, knowing that Thor had probably only had eyes for his brother.

“I…” Steve looked like he desperately wanted to scrub the past five minutes of conversation from his mind. “I’m sure Tony wouldn’t…I mean, he’s a convincing speaker, and –”

“Mr. Stark is currently on the way up in the elevator,” JARVIS broke in smoothly, as he often tended to do. Natasha was rather fond of him.

Steve’s shoulders slumped in relief.

But it was Natasha who got the last laugh when Tony swaggered out with a large grin on his face and a tellingly rumpled outfit. “The warring has come to a close,” he announced, brash and satisfied, and _nobody_ – not even Thor – needed to be told that he had just had sex.

Possibly more than once.

“ _Tony_.” Neither Bruce nor Steve seemed to be able to find any other words despite gaping like a pair of dazed fish.

“Friend Stark, you…” Thor looked stunned for about half a second, before a slow, sweet grin began to tug at his lips. Natasha wasn’t sure if it was simple relief that Tony was unharmed, or delight that Loki had not openly declared war on the Avengers (and, more importantly, Thor himself).

Tony met her gaze, and she gave him a small nod, accompanied by an equally small smile.

He looked visibly tired but not distressed, and despite the ugly bruises that traced the curve of his neck, he was holding himself without any signs of pain. That was enough for her.

For now, Loki was no longer a problem; more permanent solutions could be found in the future.

The next second, Clint crashed into the room, looking sweaty and anxious. “JARVIS told me that Stark was back,” he said urgently, before he caught sight of Tony, who was still looking like the cat that had gotten the cream.

Clint’s expression was a wonder to behold – first relief that Tony was in one piece, then shock, followed by cold realisation, and finally the twist of utter revulsion and betrayal.

“You _didn’t_ ,” he breathed, and Natasha grabbed him before he could leap forward and pummel Tony into the ground, guiding the archer back into the elevator with a firm grip on his arm.

“Breathe,” she murmured, settling her hand on the small of his back.

The last thing she heard before the doors slid shut was Steve saying in the most paternal manner ever, “I don’t suppose I’m in any position to say anything, but I really hope you know what you’re doing, Tony.”

And all she could think, as Clint leaned over and retched all over her stockinged feet, was that _he had done it_. Tony had come through for them, the way Iron Man always did.


	2. Clint, Interrupted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the events of chapter 11, Loki teleported himself and Tony back to his apartment, where they had a brief disagreement. 15 minutes later, this took place :)

The Tower was quiet, and he was alone for once, a small miracle in itself.

Naturally, he ended up whiling the time away watching Game of Thrones reruns, of all things.

The sudden clatter of metal hitting tile behind him almost gave him a heart attack, and he leaped to his feet, cursing the fact that he was clad in sweatpants and was thus _very_ weaponless.

“What the _hell_ – Tony? What – get _away_ from him!” He sprang forward without thinking, waving his hands – his _bare_ _hands_ – at the Norse god who was bending over a very battered looking Iron Man.

Loki had finally turned on them – he’d _known_ this would happen. He’d called it at least a dozen times – but Tony might be dead or dying right now, and there was no time to feel vindicated.

Loki looked understandably unimpressed by the uppercut Clint swung his way, instead catching the archer’s fist in his palm and shoving him down onto his butt with impressive restraint.

“Help him out of his armour, Barton. You _imbecile_.” The last was directed at, Clint was only just realising, a rather sheepish-looking Tony.

“Are you – he’s not, uh, killing you then?” Clint felt a very brief pang of disappointment that Loki was still behaving himself, before he leaned over to inspect the rather sooty surface of the suit. One section of it did look worryingly crumpled, but he took the lack of urgency from Tony and Loki as his cue not to fly into emergency mode.

“Anthony is the last person I would think of killing. _You_ , on the other hand…” Loki looked annoyed, and he barely flicked a glance at Clint, completely missing the archer’s deadliest death glare. “He is unable to extract himself from his armour due to the damage it has sustained, and he _refuses_ to allow me to use magic on this…this _junk_.”

Clint almost snorted in spite of himself. Did they even have the word ‘junk’ on Asgard?

Then his brain caught up with his ears and he snapped a startled look at the god. “Wait, you _teleported_ here, didn’t you? You have all your magic back? You –”

He sighed, breaking off halfway through once he realised that Tony was talking right over him, grumbling at Loki in that overly-familiar way that gave him the creeps.

“…not _junk_! I just don’t want to risk your magic messing it up since you just got it back. It’s like giving a neurosurgeon a hand transplant and then expecting him to perform brain surgery the next day!” Tony retorted heatedly.

“That is an awful analogy,” Loki said flatly.

Tony held up a quelling hand and rolled his eyes, and Clint was hard-pressed to keep a straight face with the way Loki seemed to settle back grudgingly at that motion.

 _Whipped_.

“Yeah, whatever. I am in _extreme_ discomfort at the moment, so let’s save the arguments for later.” Tony turned to Clint, brows raised. “Just help me unscrew the hip joint, Barton. Damn thing is killing me. Get the leg off and the rest of the suit will retract on its own; it won’t do that now because it knows it’ll jam at the hip.”

After receiving detailed instructions about where to find the right tools, and _which_ tool was the right one, Clint sighed and started his hunt.

He didn’t like leaving Tony alone with Loki, but it wasn’t like the pair of them hadn’t been alone numerous times already anyway. Which was something he _really_ didn’t like to think about, even if he was almost reconciled to the fact that his teammate was doing the dirty with his least favourite god on a regular basis.

Nope, his mind was _not_ going there.

When he returned, it was to a sight he really, really wished he hadn’t been around to witness.

It wasn’t anything lewd or sexual, although maybe he would rather have walked in on that – just base instincts and animal lust. That would have been excusable. Maybe.

But no, he just _had_ to walk in at the very moment the two of them were gazing into each other’s eyes like the starriest-crossed lovers ever. Loki’s expression looked _soft_ (what a joke), if a little unsettled, and Tony’s gaze was the steadiest Clint had ever seen it, the smile playing about his lips a far cry from his usual flippant smirk.

It was weird, it was creepy, and it was downright _intimate_. Clint actually felt like he had violated something – which was obviously patently ridiculous.

But for the first time, he cursed the silent footfalls his training had gifted him with.

He stood there dumbly for a full three seconds before squeaking out a very eloquent, “Er.”

Two pairs of eyes snapped towards him, and he could practically feel himself burning up with mortification.

“Finally!” Tony beamed, like he hadn’t just been sharing _a moment_ with Loki. “Get over here before I die of old age, Robin Hood.”

Clint was glad that Loki was on the opposite side of the busted hip, but it didn’t change the fact that he was still very much within murdering reach of the god, and the back of his neck prickled uneasily the whole time he was digging ineptly at Tony’s suit.

It didn’t help that the two lovebirds were _holding hands_ the whole time. It was really more like Loki constantly glaring at Clint and surreptitiously trying to pull away, while Tony hung on for dear life without a single trace of embarrassment.

Weirdos, the both of them.

Finally, the whole leg fell apart with a neat _clank_ , and he couldn’t help a triumphant “ _Yes_!” from slipping out. Instantly, the rest of the suit folded itself away from Tony’s body, and Dum-E sidled up unobtrusively to lug it away, presumably back to the workshop.

“Nice one, Barton.” Tony high-fived him, exchanged a significant _look_ with Loki (he was getting _major_ third wheel vibes here), then turned back to Clint. “Well, I’ll see you later then. Thanks for the help!”

“Wait, what – _wait_!” But before Clint could get another word out, the pair of them disappeared in a puff of green smoke, and the rest of his words trailed off stupidly into thin air. “About that…magic. Um, okay.”

_Seriously?_

He stared at the empty spot for a moment more, suddenly at a loss, then looked over at the television, which was still switched on.

He had missed the rest of the episode. Great.

He always knew he’d hated Loki for a reason.


End file.
